


let me feel my pain in private

by KevinFreakinSolo_Bitch



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Dex has no chill, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot, Trans William "Dex" Poindexter, idk what this is but it is exclusively tailored to me, kind of??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 06:52:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11270262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KevinFreakinSolo_Bitch/pseuds/KevinFreakinSolo_Bitch
Summary: Derek's having a great time at a Haus Party, but Dex sucks at Nursey Patrol. Namely, instead of watching over Nursey, Nursey get's to find Dex having a panic attack on the stairs.





	let me feel my pain in private

The music is pulsating, throbbing, and Derek feels it in his veins. The threat of a headache looms, but he dismisses it into the haze of the night, surrounded by an endless sea of dancing bodies. He downs the rest of his tub juice before Dex has the chance of coming back. He lets his shoulders sway to the unchanging melody of the song and does his best to not bash into someone and spill any more drinks. The music changes tempo and speed a few times before Derek realizes he has gone probably an hour without someone checking up on him. He thinks it's Dex's duty tonight? He wrinkles his nose a little bit, not yet drunk enough to not be embarrassed of the concept of Nursey Patrol. However he is drunk enough that his thoughts are getting lost in the clouds of his mind. He tries to shake away the fuzzy feeling that's numbing his brain, and makes his way to the kitchen for some beer. More tub juice might kill him. He certainly doesn't need that, nor does he want that weighing on Dex for being shitty at watching him. He finds Lardo standing guard over the keg, and her handing him a fresh glass should count for something. Maybe his friends could be a little bit less overbearing. He hasn't broken anything in at least a couple days. Although they do have a point when it comes to Drunk Nursey. The prospect of re-entering the room where the sounds are the most blaring suddenly disinterests him, and he aims for sitting quietly in the hallway. He's managed to slink down to a kneeling position against the wall without knocking over his beer and he's quite proud of himself when he hears shuddering breaths from above him.

 

The one who is supposed to be keeping track of him, is curled up into a tight ball on the top step and is about ten seconds from tears. Dex's face is scrunched up so tightly that his freckles look like blobs and his hands have turned white from the tension they're holding onto the soft red flannel Dex is always wearing. It's taking too long for it to register what's happening in Derek's brain, but he starts silently making his way up the stairs anyways. The last step before he reaches Dex elicits a horrible shriek but Dex makes no notice of it. He carries on whimpering and tightening his shoulder muscles. Derek eases himself down and carefully places a hand on Dex's back.

 

“What do you need me to do,” he says softly.

 

“Nothing,” Dex barely gets out. He's waving for Derek to leave, but his own experience is nagging at him to push just a little further.

 

“Dude I- I swear I'm fine. 'M just waiting for the bathroom to be open, that's all.”

He's doing his best to turn away from Derek, towards the mysteriously stained wall.

 

“Bro, there's other bathrooms. I doubt people would care if you used theirs, or hell, if you just need to calm down you could probably chill in Chowder's room.”

 

Derek quirks his eyebrows up. A stream of protests fall out of Dex's mouth.

 

“God, I'm just being whiny- I do not need Chowder walking in on me. I'm okay I just can't fucking breathe and want to puke I need a minute-”

 

Warning signs are flashing through the fog of Derek's mind and immediately took over.

 

“Nope, this is happening.”

 

Derek grabs Dex's waist and he crumples. With a little strain, he manages to get both of them to their feet and Dex moves without complaint. He rushes to Chowder's room and pushes the door open just enough to check if there are bodies inside. All clear. He shoves Dex onto the bed and sits down beside him, staring intently at him.

 

“Alright, can you focus on your breathing? In and out. In and-”

 

Dex scoffs. “If I could, maybe.” A look of shame rolls across his face. “Can you leave now, please?” He's almost begging.

 

“I don't want to leave you alone yet, man. You were practically in coral reef mode,” Derek quips. He returns to making eye contact with Dex and it seems as though no time has passed since then.

A moment hangs in the air between them as Dex stares at his grey converse.

 

“Nurse, I'm trans.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Like, I'm a transgender man. Female to male-”

 

“No, I got it. Is this an issue with your binder or something?” Dex is a little taken aback.

 

“Fuck man, most people need a minute,” he chuckles, “I sort of do.”

 

Derek studies his face for a second. He's not inspecting it for anything, just enjoying how the disgusting amount of turquoise in the room gives him a strange sort of glow. His mind was blank. It's not that the word went right over his head and wasn't processed, but it didn't alter any thoughts he had ever had. He almost wants to conjure up some memory that could suddenly be explained away, but nothing stands out in his brain. He feels kind of bad that this was anti-climactic for Dex.

 

“You know, I'm well-versed in this stuff.” This gives Dex a sincere smile. “So, you should probably get out of that binder, then.”

 

“I wasn't kidding when I asked you to leave, Nurse. I'm not showing you my chest.”

 

“Don't assume I have any interest in seeing your chest. I'm sticking around for safety purposes,” He turns around and pokes at a Sharks bobble-head.

 

“Yours or mine,” Dex chirps.

 

“Both.” The bounce of the bobble-head is forceful enough to knock over a signed hockey puck. God damn it. He hears struggle behind him, followed by a soft and meaningful 'Fuck.'

 

“Do you need a hand?” Derek singsongs.

 

Silence.

 

“...yes.”

 

Derek whips around to see Dex facing away from him, completely entangled in tan fabric. His arms are extended awkwardly and the fabric has bunched in such a way that he can tell it's painful. He swiftly readjusts the hem and lifts it off of Dex's torso to reveal a masterpiece of purple and green bruises along his ribcage. Shock stains his face.

 

“Dex, you have to be more careful.” He slaps himself mentally, knowing that came across as patronizing.

 

“I'm fine, those are old bruises,” Dex says, pulling back on his flannel and snapping the buttons in place before turning to face Derek.

 

 

“No, dude. I know what I'm talking about. You have to let those bruises heal or you'll fuck up your ribs and organs. This is serious shit.”

 

Dex ignores Derek and makes his way over to the bed. He unceremoniously flops down, and fixes the pillows to his liking. It has yet to dawn on him. Maybe he's been too subtle. And maybe he's still a little drunk as his best idea is to take off his own shirt.

 

“Oh my god, do you think you're getting lucky? What are you doing-” Dex laughs, but mixed with confusion and fear. Derek recognizes that fear. He pushes the thought down as he drops his button-down from his shoulders to the floor, his top surgery scars on full display.

 

“Now you have to listen to me. I have been stealth for so many goddamned years now and I almost didn't qualify for this surgery because I pulled your stupid shit all through high school. I know how much it hurts either way, but don't put that binder back on, Will.”

 

Suddenly he feels very sober. He approaches the other side of the bed, where Dex is much calmer, and plops himself down so their faces are three inches apart. With a grin, he sprawls out and reaches around Dex to entrap him. Fake attempts at slaps are made on Dex's part.

 

“What are you doing,” Dex shrieks, “Oh my god, stop!” His words are betrayed by the tremendous smile spreading from ear to blushing pink ear.

 

“I've decided we are best friends now, you can't help it. Accept me.”

 

Dex gets a good shove against Derek's shoulder, but not enough to leave a mark. “Uhh, this is offensive. You can't decide we're best friends because we're both trans. I won't allow it.”

 

The wrestling settles down after a few seconds so Dex can catch his breath and Derek doesn't accidentally punch him in the sternum.

 

“You know, we actually are best friends now, right?” Derek lets on a serious tone.

 

“Shut up,” Dex groans back. Derek's face is met with a pillow being slammed into it.

**Author's Note:**

> Gotta love me some Trans Dex. And also unexpected Trans Nursey.  
> All your faves are trans in my universe.


End file.
